


Smite the Many, Spare a Few

by WildcatPacer



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 18:05:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12513176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildcatPacer/pseuds/WildcatPacer
Summary: Almost all the living Victors have to go back into the arena for the Third Quarter Quell. Almost all.....





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: 75th Reaping**

I stride into Haymitch Abernathy's mansion in the Victor's Village of District 12, my game bag slung over my shoulder. The lingering shadows cast on the walls reflects the rapid setting of the sun and coming of evening - reminding me of the pain that I will endure with my fellow Victors tonight.

Tonight is the Reading of the Card for the 3rd Quarter Quell, or special 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games. My district partner, Peeta Mellark, and I won the death match last year.

And here he comes now, my district partner and our tiny Village's resident baker. He beams behind his blonde curls when he sees me. "Haymitch! Katniss is home!" he throws over his shoulder, before taking me in his arms and pressing his lips to mine.

I don't stiffen as much as I once did. Peeta and I pretended to be lovers to curry favor from sponsors in the Games. Only I discovered that Peeta's affections for me were real. The Capitol will expect us to marry in due time. Since returning home, Peeta has been less free in his public displays of passion towards me, as I am still uncertain how I feel about him. However, I do not pull away from him and let him kiss me. Though I do not kiss him back. In fact, I actually smirk when he releases me.

"Good evening to you, too," I grin, as I slide past him, trying not to think about how much I actually enjoyed the kiss. "Haymitch has the TV set up yet?"

"Nope," Haymitch belches, as he swaggers into the foyer, his palms bursting with liquor bottles. All for himself, of course. My alcoholic mentor sways a little on his feet. I turn back to Peeta and raise an eyebrow, bristling. Maybe I shouldn't have just let the Baker's son up and kiss me like that, if he wasn't making Haymitch watch what he drank... "We're watching it somewhere different tonight."

And Haymitch traipses out the door, Peeta and I following him curiously. The old drunk better not be going to my house. It will be stressful enough on Mother to just have to watch the programming with my sister, Primrose. Maybe we'll go to Peeta's place. He lives alone, as his parents and two brothers decided to remain at the Bakery in Town.

But it turns out to be neither, as I see Haymitch leading us to one of the empty nine houses ringing the Village. Every Victor's Village in Panem has twelve houses already built for winners of the Games. I can only think of a couple districts that have had nearly all those homes occupied: Districts 1 and 2, the Career districts. The rest are lucky if they have their Villages half full or less.

Yet, there is one house here in District 12's Village that was... once occupied. Cassiope Fletch, the only other woman to triumph in the arena other than me, became the Victor of the 16th Hunger Games many years ago. She lived here, by herself in exile, for many decades until Haymitch Abernathy came along and won the 2nd Quarter Quell at the age of 16. Cassiope has been dead since Peeta and I were born.

Cassiope's house sits abandoned, and the door is locked when Haymitch tries it. When a Victor dies, their old mansion is supposed to be turned into a memorial, or so I've heard. It's a tradition. Only District 12 probably didn't have the money to preserve much of it at all, being the poorest district in Panem. But the locked doors and windows don't stop my mentor. He circles us around the house until we come upon a storm cellar door. Peeta helps Haymitch bash the door in and we descend into the mansion's basement. It feels a little spooky until Haymitch turns on an overhead light, to reveal a battered TV sitting in the corner.

"One of the things you and The Boy are going to have to learn, Sweetheart," Haymitch lectures as he fiddles with the television, "is that the paparazzi are always anxious to get the Victors reactions to the new Quell twist. They might swarm into the Village to film us. Poor Cassiope suffered that twice, including the year I would win. But... they can't film us if they can't find us..."

Peeta pulls the cellar door - or what's left of it - to as the television comes out. The three of us gather on a beat-up couch as the seal of Panem appears on the screen, and President Snow takes the lectern. He gives the first two Quell twists - electing the tributes was the twist for the first, and twice as many tributes was the twist for the second. The latter was the year Haymitch won...

President Snow now opens the flap of the envelope handed to him, to announce this year's twist. "On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder that the Capitol's rule extends over even the strongest -  _all_  of the strongest - all the living Victors will be Reaped for the arena. However, to show the Capitol's mercy, the only exceptions will be those Victors who are still of Reaping age."

Peeta gawks. "How awful!"

 _Yes_ , I think.  _How awful_. But not for us. Having won only last year, Peeta and I are 17 - still of Reaping age and with a year to spare. But does that mean we will be mentoring literally all alone? I should imagine that only the year or maybe two before ours feature Victors still of Reaping age. And why would Peeta and I be spared like this, if Snow thinks that our stunt with the berries has ignited a rebellion? Maybe so that he can keep a closer eye on us once all the other Victors are gone.

And then there's poor Haymitch, who I see is trying to hide the tears sliding down his cheeks. The only Victor alive who has been through a Quell, and he will be sent back in without his proteges. Without any kind of friend, since Cassiope is no longer around.

I steel my resolve. Even if Peeta and I are spared, we have to do whatever we can to help him. That means withdrawing him from alcohol, helping him train and act like a Career. We have a Quell title to defend.

* * *

In the history of the Hunger Games, there have been a total of 75 Victors. 59 are still alive. Haymitch is Reaped in less than a minute, and we are escorted to the train. The other Reapings are far worse, as we watch them with Effie Trinket, our district escort, on TV. Hordes of Victors are Reaped for the slaughter and hustled onto the trains like cattle about to be slain. Commentators go through each one, despite the sheer number of them, and paying close attention, Peeta and I come to realize that we won't be alone on the outside.

The Career boy from District 2 who won the 73rd Games, Wade Rankine, is only 18. He just made the cutoff. A hulking black boy, re-runs of his final triumph over his opponent are shown. Then, there is the girl from District 7 who won the year before Wade, the 72nd Hunger Games. She, too, is 18. Which means that she first became Victor at age 15. 15-year-olds winning the Games are rare, and has only happened a handful of times throughout history. Only one 14-year-old has ever been crowned - Finnick Odair - and that was a good decade ago.

That's it, then. 55 Victors being killed for fun, while the remaining four have to watch. This is going to be a long Games.

Getting off the train in the Capitol, it isn't long before the media drives Peeta and I together with these two colleagues. Wade is extroverted, cracking a lot of jokes. It is a sharp contrast to his hardened exterior and muscular frame. Calloused hands that I remember beating the District 10 boy - his final opponent - so brutally.

I can't help but feel awkward in talking to Wade, as I remember Cato, the District 2 boy Peeta and I beat last year. Had Wade mentored him? I surprise even myself when I ask this question aloud.

"No," Wade shakes his head. "Brutus did." He gestures back to a giant man in his 40s, probably a peer of Haymitch. "But I was here being trained as a mentor, learning the ropes." He leans in to whisper to Peeta and I. "Don't tell anyone, but I was rooting for you guys in the end. Old Haymitch deserved a win."

Pliny Arausio, the spared girl from District 7, has skin as white as the new fallen snow. An attractive face devoid of blemishes, and I find myself being self-conscious as she first introduces herself to Peeta. Her win at such a young age was astonishing, especially since Johanna Mason - likely Pliny's mentor - had won for District 7 the year previously. However, Pliny gives me a friendly hug. "I'm so glad you won," she conveys, and I can tell she's sincere.

Our quartet spend the day fielding interviews and placing initial calls to sponsors as our tributes are prepped for the evening parade by their stylists. Wade has to train seven of his colleagues; Pliny, four. Peeta and I actually start to feel lucky we only have to watch out for Haymitch.

That evening, the Tribute Chariot Parade is held in the City Circle. Wade guides Peeta and I to the VIP seatings for Victors in the stands. "Come on, I can get us really good seats!"

The Parade is the most disorganized I have ever seen, and I have seen Haymitch's parade via re-runs of his Quell on TV. Anywhere from two to seven Victors are all crammed into the chariots per district. Only Haymitch has the chariot all to himself and is pulled last. By the time our mentor passes by, the cheering has died down to quiet murmurs, as people observe the last Quarter Quell Victor. And how could they ignore him, when he has a golden crown on his identifying his status? President Snow makes a speech, and the tributes are whisked off to the Tribute Training Center.

I feel bad that three-quarters of the districts don't even have a mentor to help them. Wade introduces us to his colleagues, and I am chilled by how Brutus Gunn glares at both Peeta and I. We killed his tribute last year, I know, but he still unnerves me. I should only be grateful that Peeta and I do not have to encounter him in any arena. He is still in remarkable shape.

Pliny's mentor, Johanna Mason, is sarcastic and rude. I am surprised that Pliny takes her moody attitude so well. Blight Jordan, a male Victor from 7 who is in his thirties, is more polite. As are his other brothers-in-arms, Eero Nitva and Jago Portshore.

Over the next three days, all 55 of the Reaped Victors are in training. Even though it is against Haymitch's cantankerous nature, Peeta and I encourage him to try and make some friends. He must have some people he's close with - he's known some of the Victors for years, and spent a good quarter of a century welcoming new ones into the fold. However, this advice comes with a caveat from me: avoid the Careers. Wade will have the responsibility of looking after all of them, not just his home of District 2, and even though the black boy seems very friendly, he was once a Career himself. That status makes me associate with Wade wearily. And the Career tributes will surely be targeting Haymitch because of his Quarter Quell Victor status.

After the three days, the tributes Training scores - score after score after score - are announced by Caesar Flickerman. Most years, where there are only 24 tributes, reading off the scores takes but 20 minutes. This time, the reading of each score takes closer to an hour. Haymitch manages a score of 9, an excellent showing despite how he has been suffering from alcohol withdrawal. That Brutus fellow from Wade's district manages an 11, as I did last year. So does, remarkably, Johanna Mason, Pliny's mentor. 10 or below for the rest.

The fourth and final night are the interviews with Caesar. Name after name after name is called for their three minutes of fame. An ordinary slate of tributes takes just over an hour to get through. This Quell demands that Wade, Pliny, Peeta and I observe our colleagues for close to three hours - from prime seats in the front row of the studio audience. Haymitch is last of all, and Pliny has to nudge Peeta awake, who has fallen asleep against my shoulder.

"Your man's up!"

Haymitch is given quite a bit of interest, since he is the reigning champion of Quells. So it only helps that he goes last of all, out of all 55 tributes. He merely reiterates what he told Caesar in their interview from a quarter of a century prior: that even with the enhanced number of tributes, their perceived stupidity is the mitigating factor that will allow his odds to be roughly the same.

* * *

That night, Peeta and I hold each other in bed on the 12th floor - the penthouse - of the Training Center.

"Can we really watch Haymitch die?" I ask despondently of my district partner. Peeta kisses my temple.

"I don't think he will. He's the only Victor alive who has gone in with even close to these numbers. He's the Quell winner. Don't count him out. But... if he does fall... we'll be here to catch each other?"

And together, Peeta and I drift off into a fitful sleep.


	2. Four Victors Walk Into a Bar

**Chapter 2: Four Victors Walk into a Bar**

Peeta and I are roused early by Effie Trinket; the sky is just beginning to lighten over the Capitol skyline. Close to 6:30 in the morning.

Up on the roof of the Training Center, we both hug Haymitch long and hard. He might have been harsh and not the most lovable guy to be around, but we owe him our lives. He got us both out of the arena, two tributes at once - something no other mentor can claim. And despite his legendary reputation for being hard of heart, I am astonished to see my drunken mentor struggling to hold back tears.

"You and the Boy have a good life." And Haymitch kisses my forehead as a final forehead. He pumps Peeta's hand. "Take care of her, son."

Peeta smiles confidently, trying to be brave for the old man. "We'll see you soon."

Haymitch smirks. "Yeah." And he marches onto the close-to-bursting hovercraft.

Effie escorts Peeta and I onto the elevator after the plane is out of sight. She takes her leave of us on the basement floor, and we follow the signs to the Mentor's Bar.

From what Haymitch told us, most years the Mentors' Bar is a rowdy, overflowing place. Almost all the Victors have come here every year, even if they are not on the official slate to mentor. Having only ever had one colleague and even spending most of his post-arena career alone, Haymitch never had that luxury of attending with no duties involved.

However, when Peeta and I walk in, the Bar is deathly quiet. Wade is at the counter proper, ordering a round from the bartender. Completely empty tables and booths litter the space around him. It only takes craning my neck for me to see Pliny curled up in one booth, possibly taking a power nap. She'll need it, once the Games go live at 10 A.M.

"Pliny! Wake up! The Star-Crossed Lovers are here!" Wade calls. "Two more, bartender!"

I frown, bristling at the joint nickname Peeta and I hold, even as we join the dark-skinned Career at the bar. "Thanks, anyway, Wade, but I don't drink," I tell him.

Wade just grins. "No problem, Katniss. Just trade out your beer for a water. We've got apple cider and lemonade, too!" He raises his glass of Bourbon to chink glasses with Peeta. "Cheers, mate!"

Pliny ambles over, stifling a yawn as she plops into the seat on Wade's right. "Do you always have to yell everything you say?"

"Have to, to make yourself heard in this environment," Wade shrugs.

"That was then. This is now. Who are you gonna yell over: Chaff? There's nobody else  _here_!" Pliny growls.

Wade ignores her barb. "OK: we have an hour before Game time, and since this place is... unusually dead, let's go over some logistics. I say we try and mentor for as many tributes as we can, not just the ones from our districts. I'll take the Career districts, 1 and 2 and 4, since I am a Career. The other nine can be split three-way between the rest of you. Do we have an accord?"

Pliny calls dibs on Districts 7, 8 and 9, so that she can still at least keep tabs on Johanna and her other home colleagues. Peeta volunteers to mentor 12, for Haymitch's sake, and scoops up Districts 10 and 11 in the bargain. I am left with Districts 3, 5 and 6, even though I know absolutely nothing about any of them. District 6 only has three living Victors with a winning record as equally poor to ours. And District 3 is not much better, with five Victors. District 5 has the most prominent Victory record on all of them, so I bet that they will make a play for this Crown the most.

At 10 A.M., the arena goes live. Wade lets loose a cheer, which reverberates eerily in the empty space. Even so, I dare to sneak an appalled glance his way. How does he think this is any fun? Especially when it is your friends and neighbors going to your death? People who worked their asses off to save your own skin, once upon a time?

Getting a first look at the arena on the TV screens, my heart goes into my throat. The arena takes place in a jungle wasteland, with a miniature ocean surrounding the rocky island that holds the Cornucopia. It is dizzying to see the sheer number of pedestals standing in the middle of the sea's water. So many tributes... so many... and only Haymitch has ever known even close to the amount of competition that ow awaits to do battle.

55 Victors must fight to the death... and only one can come out. And there's only one way to get to the Cornucopia.

KABOOM! An old woman from District 4 suddenly and serenely steps off her pedestal before the gong can sound, blowing herself up and six more tributes around her, in a merciless chain reaction. It only takes quick thinking and forcefields from the Gamemakers before the entire arena goes up. I note how all three of my District 6 tributes were lost in the early foul play, as well as two from District 3. One more fatality and I can focus solely on District 5. And at least now, we are fairly close to the numbers Haymitch experienced when he went into his first arena.

The gong sounds. Mostly the Careers dive into the water and swim for shore. But a great majority of the surviving Victors stay where they are. Do they know how to swim?

"There's Haymitch!" Peeta points out to me on one screen, and I wonder just how much airtime the old man is going to get, given his exalted history.

As we watch, Haymitch tentatively lowers himself into the water and begins to clumsily stroke through the waves. Several others follow his example, yet not all of them have nearly as much luck at staying afloat. Some painfully, agonizingly, drown in the tide. Still others knock each other off their pedestals into the blue expanse, then duel and forcefully drown each other. The Careers and some other skilled swimmers make the beach and dive for weapons, preferring instead to draw life from the sword. Screams and many cannons begin to split the air. Watching the gruesome spectacle makes me shake.

"It's so horrid," I whisper to myself. I have a close-up view of Finnick Odair, the pretty boy from District 4, sink a trident into James Logan, a drunk from my jurisdiction of District 5.

Meanwhile, Haymitch has managed to swim, inch by inch, for the beach, arriving land without drawing any attention to himself. Crawling on his belly along the sand, he gets within reach of a belt of throwing knives and seizing it. Scrambling to his feet and taking off for the jungle along a rocky spoke, he only encounters Jackson Spidell, a young man from District 10, and draws a blade across the twenty-something's throat. Then, my drunken mentor disappears into the trees.

The cries of battle and death reverberate until almost sundown on that first day.

* * *

By the time the bloodbath is over, an astonishing 35 tributes have perished. My last District 3 Victor - an aging man named Beetee Latier - was drowned, and half of my six Victors from District 5 were wiped out as well. Pliny lost all from 8 and 9, and only Blight Jordan and Johanna Mason remain from her homeland. Peeta has one man from District 10, Chaff Mitchell from District 11 and Haymitch in his jurisdiction. Most of the Careers, predictably, survived intact, so Wade is doing well. Finnick Odair, Ron Stafford and Annie Cresta of District 4 lived; five of his District 2 colleagues and four Victors from District 1 did as well. That whole group is in an alliance.

20 tributes live in all. Still almost enough to fill an entire Games.

During the second day, the arena traps - rigged every hour in the fashion of a deadly clock - begin to strike. Blight, Chaff and Greir Rollo (the man from 10) are quickly claimed, leaving Peeta and Pliny with only one tribute each to focus on. The dozen members of the Career pack are not fazed by the clock traps, going into sectors to hunt for tributes. And Wade is managing to outmaneuver the rest of us mentors in getting us sponsor gifts. Except for meager offerings, the remaining five competitors - including Johanna Mason and Haymitch - are on their own.

On the third day, there is quite a bit of life lost. A tidal wave swoops onto the Career pack, killing six of them. The survivors - Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Brutus Gunn and Enobaria Golding of 2, and Gloss and Cashmere Ritchson of District 1 - escape... right into carnivorous insects in the next sector. The twins of District 1 are disgustingly eaten, along with Enobaria. Finnick runs with Annie - his lover - into the woods, and Brutus staggers off alone.

We are already at the Final Eight. 43 tributes have already perished.

"They're dropping like flies!" Pliny gasps.

Interviews are conducted for the survivors, the coverage of which we four mentors observe on TV. When Brutus savagely stabs all three of my District 5 Victors to death on the fourth day, my jurisdiction is knocked out of the Games completely. And Brutus does not stop there. He tracks down Finnick and Annie again later that same day; the pair tragically kiss before Brutus bludgeons them both. Though Finnick puts up a hell of a fight. Wade, Peeta and Pliny only have one of each now. I decide to devote my efforts to helping Peeta.

* * *

The Top Three. The Quell is now down to Districts 2, 7 and 12. The very districts where the only mentors this year hail from. I wonder if the Gamemakers rigged it that way.

Haymitch has made an outstanding showing, living off the land and foraging for food just as I taught. He has fought off any arena traps he encounters valiantly, but the effort has left him weakened. I fear if the Gamemakers draw him into battle with either Johanna or Brutus, the old drunk won't last.

Peeta puts his arm around me and places a kiss to my temple. "Haymitch is tough. He can win all over again. He  _will_  win. You'll see."

But I am not so sure, as the Gamemakers draw together a fight. Thankfully, it's between Brutus Gunn and Johanna Mason. The battle is vicious, but thanks to some throwing axes Pliny sent her mentor, Johanna is able to pull off a remarkable victory and kill the giant from 2. This stunning display sends Wade flying into a rage, exploding into an argument between him and Pliny.

"NO FAIR! NO EFFING FAIR! SHE HACKED OFF HIS GOOD SWORD ARM EARLY ON; BRUTUS DIDN'T STAND A CHANCE!"

"THERE ARE NO RULES, WADE! JOHANNA HAD EVERY RIGHT!"

Wade seethes. "FUCK YOU, PLINY!"

"GO AHEAD!" Pliny goads.

A beat. Both Victors regard each other, red-faced and their breaths coming in heaves. And then suddenly, they jump each other. The pair, white skin on black skin, are furiously making out. It is hard to tell whose lips are whose, as they dig into each other, both Pliny and Wade's tongues battling for dominance.

Peeta's mouth falls open in utter shock. I, meanwhile, cannot take my eyes off the sight. Ordinarily, such indecent displays would make me nauseous, especially as I have never fancied embarking on sexual adventures with boys. Nevertheless, a strange heat begins to fill me, down to my core, as Pliny audaciously pins Wade to the bar counter and straddles him, tearing at his clothes. I turn back to Peeta, my gaze hard.

"Kiss me," I order.

Peeta gapes at me. But I need not give the command again, or clarify how he should kiss me. Peeta takes me in his arms and kisses me the way Wade kissed Pliny. I moan in pleasure as I close my eyes and drape my arms around him, kissing him back. Our hands wander and pet and caress heavily. I even dare to grasp Peeta's burgeoning erection through his pants and stroke him.

"Katniss..." Peeta groans, gasps into my mouth. And before I know it, his hands are squeezing my breasts, plunging into my pants and seizing my dampening pussy.

"Hmmmm..." I hum and roll my hips into his, as I move into his lap proper. But when I feel Peeta beginning to play with the lining of my panties, wanting to pull them down, I stop him. "Wait. I... I don't want to... to have sex. At least not yet."

Peeta stares. "If that's what you want."

I nod solemnly. "That's what I want. But later, yes. Only I don't want it to look like that." Glancing back over our shoulder, we observe the black beast that is Wade, buck naked and thrusting mightily into a squirming and wailing Pliny. Her white hands are clawing at the rippling muscles in his back.

Peeta smirks. "At least some of us are finding their own entertainment."

I smile, kiss Peeta's lips one last time, and gracefully dismount him. This was a good time out, but the Quell isn't over yet.


	3. Disappear We Will

**Chapter 3: Disappear We Will**

The week mark on the Quell arrives. And at long last, Johanna Mason and Haymitch Abernathy are driven together for the grand finale. The battle to see who will become the Victor of Victors.

Wade has by now joined Pliny in supporting Johanna, so our numbers our even. Two mentors on two mentors.

The final fight is bloody and awful. But Haymitch gives as good as he gets. And he has an even better advantage: in his last Top Two battle, he faced an opponent who was also good at using axes. And he bested her.

Just as he bests Johanna now, disarming her from one of her own axes and using it against her to behead her. But before Claudius Templesmith can announce that Haymitch Abernathy has won the Quarter Quell again -

Haymitch turns the axe on himself. He dies instantly.

Peeta and I gape in horror. The Games will have no Victor.

All at once, Peacekeepers burst into the Mentors' Bar, their guns drawn.

"RUN!" Wade yells. The black boy leads us out a side door, and we fight our way through secret passageways guarded by Peacekeepers, getting our hands on guns and shooting through the rest. Peeta and Wade make excellent fighters as they lead the way, but I am a good shot with the semi-automatics myself. It's not much different from shooting a bow.

At last, our quartet reaches a platform with a hovercraft in deep night. We sneak aboard and Pliny takes command of it.

"Hold onto your hats, boys and girls!" she orders. And she spirits us away into the night.

* * *

Panem erupts in rebellion. The Capitol is invaded and it will likely soon fall to the Rebels. The Hunger Games will be abolished, which is proven true by the new government that emerges triumphant, and President Snow is executed.

Pliny lands the hovercraft in the wilderness and we abandon it, eventually making our way on foot back to District 12. The Victors' Village there is almost as bombed out as the rest of the Districts, except for one mansion. My mansion. The mansion where Peeta and I will decide to spend the rest of our days.

We part ways with Wade and Pliny. Holding hands, the new couple decides that they will head for the South, hoping to find a new home. Together. They plan to get married.

Peeta hugs both farewell. "Good luck and Godspeed," he tells them.

I follow suit in my hugs, lingering with Wade. "Thank you for getting us out of there," I express to him.

Wade grins and pecks my cheek. "You are more than welcome. We're Victors." He shakes Peeta's hand, and then he and Pliny disappear into the woods, headed for parts unknown. It is only many weeks later that Peeta and I get a letter from them, reporting that they safely returned to Pliny's District 7 and got married in secret.

Peeta and I get married ourselves, having a traditional Toasting. Several years later, I agree to have a baby. Two babies, in fact. As Peeta and I watch our children play in the Meadow, we are grateful that they will never know how there are much worse Games to play.


End file.
